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sad poem

mescolisi
ma non posso ora leggerlo
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
musing, fra il tramonto e l'oscurità
la donna molto ha mancato, come denominate a me, chiamata a me
tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
il corpo può limitare
tre anni fa oggi
morbido come la base nella terra
come le aquile sul high alto
la luce ritirata
basso! 'tis un la notte di gala
sotto il timone del guerriero
non giri la vostra testa

 



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